


Sketches in C

by q_19



Category: Homeland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/q_19/pseuds/q_19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly fill-in-the-blanks, some extended/missing/made up scenes. One for each episode of season 3. Carrie POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sketches in C

\-------------------  
0301   
\-------------------

The truth hurts. 

She is watching Saul tell her truths to the entire nation, ones she had meticulously secreted for years; each statement just another twist of the dagger she had helped him jam into her gut.

Now flutterings of regret mixed with nervous anticipation occupy her stomach, flirting with the dagger of betrayal. And though the betrayal is somewhat self-inflicted, it still hurts to hear him say the words. 

“The case officer in question has a history of erratic behaviour. She’s unstable.” 

“She’s been diagnosed as bipolar, a condition she concealed from her superiors for more than ten years.” 

For a brief moment of clarity Carrie wishes to retract her decision to go off the lithium. Yes, the meds had dulled her thought processes to the point she missed something, to the point where she no longer met her own standards. But it’s getting harder to keep herself in check with just a routine and a healthy lifestyle. And now it’s all she can do to keep it together, to remember she is in on this. That this is the play. 

Because Saul’s on the screen and he’s pinning it all on her - selling her out, throwing her under the bus. It’s just a bit too real and little tentacles of paranoia are slipping through her defense systems. Maybe their play was really just his play. The Saul she knows wouldn’t do that to her. But she’s no longer sure he’s the Saul she knows. The bomb changed a lot of things. Then there’s that look he gave her when she fed him the line about being knocked out for fourteen hours. And Saul isn’t a man who suffers being lied to. 

It’s thoughts like that that push the paranoia. And without the lithium it’s really fucking difficult to keep those thoughts at bay. Well, maybe it’s the extra hormones too. 

Regardless, all Carrie knows is it’s a good thing it is much too late to back out now because she’s no longer sure she can do it. 

 

\-------------------  
0302   
\-------------------

It should be simple. She’s certainly had enough practice being on the far side of sanity. But as she sits waiting for her family to show up Carrie is having trouble differentiating between what’s real and what’s the act. And then there’s the humiliation factor. 

Quinn’s presence at the door is pushing too many thoughts through her head. Maybe Saul didn’t trust her and sent Quinn to make sure they locked her up. The first time he had shown up at the hospital she’d been flustered. Why would Saul have sent him? Quinn wasn’t part of the plan. 

It only got worse when Carrie realized he hadn’t been sent and she needed to be rid of him. Accusing him of trying to threaten her before almost getting him forcibly removed was the only option. The thing was with Quinn, it was fucking hard to piss him off. His irritatingly stable emotional set-point trying to pull her towards calm when she just wanted to rail at him and kick him in the nuts for having the audacity to show up and pretend to care. 

When she wants to bar him from the hearing the doctor is moronic enough to believe Quinn’s there on her side as character witness and then has the nerve to tell her she can’t make a scene and kick him out. So now he’s there, just in time to see her best crazy.

Which turns out easier than expected when her family shows up bearing a bag of meds and some classified information. Fucking Saul. She doesn’t need his help to stay in a fucking mental hospital. He didn’t have to turn her own family against her. And what the hell happened to being on her side? One little slip and they forgive everything Saul has done to her? 

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t true. It’s her family. They’re supposed to look out for her, not just believe any old bullshit Saul throws their way. And what if he isn’t on her side anymore? She could be setting herself up to be involuntarily committed for a very long time. 

The judge sits down just as her thoughts have reached peak velocity. 

“Your honor,” she says as possibilities whip through her mind, each more worrisome than the last. Saul is putting her in here for good, he’s found another way to achieve their mission. Why else would he go to the trouble of talking to Maggie and her dad? To discredit her to the only people she can trust. And here she is, about to go along with it, about to throw her freedom away on the slimmest hope. 

That’s when she runs. She sees Quinn get up to stop her before the burly arms of the orderlies grab her. Carrie gets a good elbow in on one of them before they have her by the arms and pull her from the room. 

A quick glance at Quinn’s expression on her way out tells her she has at least accomplished her mission.

“This is a fucking sham!” Carrie yells, no longer sure if she is acting a part. 

 

\-------------------  
0303   
\-------------------

Three weeks. Saul must have come since the night of the hearing but she hasn’t earned her goddamned visiting privileges and he obviously hasn’t fought to see her. But she needs to see him, just to hear it from his mouth. Nothing else can quell the anxiety and anger lodged in her sternum. 

It’s entirely possible they’ve locked her up for time to get the paperwork done. Throwing her out of the Agency would be an open and shut matter if that’s the way they wanted to go. These are the thoughts that fill her head as she puts another fucking stick on her “art”. When the nurse comes around to praise her work Carrie does her best to mentally prepare for the inanity. She’s proud of the control she shows, even with the vacuous nurse brings Mike over to admire her pointless creation. 

Carrie asks to be excused, barely making it to the bathroom before it boils over and she slams her head against the mirror. It is the most satisfying feeling she has felt for weeks but the relief lasts only a moment before she hears the other nurse check on her. 

Instant anxiety engulfs her - if she is caught self-harming she will never get out of this place. But it is too much. She has been doing everything they’ve asked of her. Taking her meds like a fucking good little mental patient. Going to group. Pretending to talk about her feelings. Making stupid fucking balconies out of goddamned popsicle sticks instead of jabbing her eyes out with them like she would prefer.

“Please don’t tell,” Carrie pleads, unable to contain her tears of frustration. She is so fucking helpless in there and there is no one she can trust. All she knows is it’s been three weeks. Saul should have gotten her out by now and he hasn’t. And she isn’t sure she can take any more of this. 

\-------------------  
0304   
\-------------------

Four and a half hours into her convoluted journey to Saul’s she realizes waves of nervous anticipation are gnawing at her mind. Carrie hasn’t been this nervous to see him in a very long time. It had been so hard at the hospital, trying not to hate him. 

Mira looks a touch apprehensive when she opens the door but Carrie pushes through. “I need to see Saul,” she says, not bothering with hello. 

Mira nods and leads Carrie to the back deck, probably knowing from previous experience that it was best just to let Carrie do what she wanted to do.

Saul looks surprised. “Carrie,” he says, without any hint of happiness to see her. 

“Saul,” she replies, equally aplomb.

It’s only she finally catches her breath and tells him the plan worked that she can feel a hum of excitement come from him. He asks all the questions he needs to ask and now she’s gaining confidence. For once she says exactly what he wants to hear and Saul’s delight begins to show. 

But when he tells her she is an amazing person Carrie doesn’t know what to feel. She has not been feeling exactly amazing as of late. Actually she has been depressed and paranoid and barely hanging on to her fucking sanity. 

It’s when he tells her that she’s been so brave that she cracks. It has been too much.

“You should have gotten me out of the hospital, Saul. You shouldn’t have left me in there,” she says, tears starting to betray her. 

But then he pulls her to him and the pain eases a little bit. She hates to admit it, even to herself, but this is what she needs right now. 

“It’s almost over,” he says soothingly. 

But it’s not and she knows it. 

“No, it’s too hard, I can’t keep going,” she replies, hot tears streaming into Saul’s shirt. 

He tells her she can but Carrie doesn’t need to be told. She knows she will see it through, no matter the cost to herself. This is her penance, the only way to alleviate some of the guilt for not anticipating the Langley bombing. 

Carrie wants something a lot stronger than tea but she settles for a cup of something hot and soothing as she curls up on Saul’s sofa. He sits next to her and lets her lean into him. She is trembling and still fighting back tears. 

“Don’t ever send me back there, Saul,” she says, shaking her head repetitively. 

“You’re okay now, Carrie,” Saul replies, giving her shoulders a squeeze. 

Carrie nods between shaky breaths because that’s what he expects her to do. But she thinks it’s pretty fucking clear that she isn’t okay. 

\-------------------  
0305   
\-------------------

Carrie scrambles down the stairs to her car, looking for surveillance, lost in a tumble of thoughts. Of all days for this Dana Brody thing to happen. But she has to find her. Brody would want her to. 

She’s startled when a figure steps out from behind the concrete parking barrier. 

“Jesus, what the fuck, Quinn!” she says sharply. “Shouldn’t you be hiding up a tree or something?” 

Quinn responds sternly, like he’s reading a script, “I’m up on your burner phone. I heard your conversation with Agent Hall and your little friend Max. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

What the hell does she think she’s doing? What the hell does he think he’s doing? 

Carrie doesn’t want to have to explain herself to him but can’t see a way around it. “If you heard, you should know I’m trying to find Dana Brody.”

Quinn has the audacity to argue about her plan and instantly she no longer has the patience to deal with him.

“You came in on this operation like five minutes ago and now you’re telling me what to do?” she barks, frustrated at having to explain herself to him. 

Quinn makes some dull points about the surveillance on her, tells her they will kill her. She can feel the intensity of his eyes burning holes through her. For such an impassive man he has particularly expressive eyes. 

He offers to handle it for her but she knows that’s won’t work. Agent Hall would just get his knickers in a bigger twist if Quinn threatened him. And anyways, this is something she needs to do herself. 

Quinn looks at her intently. “Carrie, you’re under a lot of strain, you’re not thinking clearly,” he says. 

“I’m thinking just fine, Quinn,” she retorts. “If anyone’s risking this operation it’s you. You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

She regrets it even as she’s saying it. Quinn actually looks taken aback, even a bit hurt. It feels strange to be able to wound him. Carrie wonders when she gained that ability. 

She wants to rewind, tries to think of something to say. But she’s no good with apologies so she’s stuck with the truth. 

“Look...I’m glad you’ve got my back...” she says, taking the plunge. “And you came to see me in the hospital when I was not in a good place. It meant a lot.” He is looking at her with an expression she can’t read. Seriousness mixed with something else. Great, that’s what she gets for honesty, Carrie thinks. 

“What you put yourself through,” he finally says. “It was fucking incredible.” 

Quinn looks so open and honest she has to glance away. She remembers he saw them drag her off, thinks she might remember him visiting again sometime in her thorazine stupor. She doesn’t want him to admire her for that. 

“Well, yeah I have a yoga class that starts in eleven minutes,” she says, in lieu of a response. 

Quinn doesn’t look happy letting her go but he doesn’t try to stop her as she gets in her car. 

\-------------------  
0306   
\-------------------

Quinn is early and steps in when she opens the door. Carrie asks for the latest on Javadi and he tells her they have dick all. There’s still no proof Javadi didn’t leave his compound once she was gone, except for Saul’s sudden gift of telepathy. 

Quinn hands her the USB drive with the files and inevitably looks towards the map on her wall. Carrie curses inwardly, remembering why she doesn’t usually let people in. She knows how it looks, especially to another operative. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, mounting her defense. 

But Quinn cuts her off. 

“No you don’t,” he answers. “Brody is America’s most wanted man and you’re looking for possible sightings of him because it’s your job.” 

Carrie looks at him, not knowing what to say. Why is Quinn making excuses for her? She considers telling him she doesn’t need his false understanding but he interrupts her thought by giving her a new burner phone and by that time it’s too late.

They head out the door and she can feel him walking just behind her, can feel his eyes focus in on her. She is no longer sure what to think about Quinn. While his continued presence in Langley is inexplicable, there are moments when she sees him as an ally. 

They are halfway to their destination before either speaks. Carrie should be thinking about the meet with Javadi but she has been thinking about Quinn. And Brody. And sitting in the back of those thoughts was something important trying to pop out. 

Quinn has been giving her furtive looks as she stares out the window and Carrie wonders what he is thinking. It had been nice of him to give her an out with her Brody map but she doesn’t want his pity. It’s right then that the pieces click into place and the words come out her mouth before she even knows they are there. 

“You know, Brody didn’t do it. It wasn’t your fault,” she says out of the blue. 

Quinn looks at her, one eyebrow tweaked in confusion. 

“Brody didn’t plant the bomb. So it’s okay you didn’t kill him,” she tries again, knowing it is a terrible time to bring something like this up. But she has had a lot on her mind since the bombing and this is the first time she thought about it from Quinn’s point of view. 

Quinn goggles at her, his stunned silence as much proof as she needs. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carrie,” he finally says very professionally, turning to look straight ahead. 

Carrie considers the man sitting beside her. She can let him off easy and just let the subject rest. But she won’t because she needs to say the words. 

“Well, anyway. Thanks. I never thought you’d abandon a mission. Adal’s guys don’t have hearts right,” she says, her gaze steady on him. 

Quinn focuses on driving for a few more moments. He seems tense, wary when he finally looks over at her. 

“Did Saul tell you?” he asks. 

Carrie raises her eyebrows at that. At least Saul wasn’t as far in the dark as she thought. 

“He didn’t need to,” she replies. “Why didn’t you do it, Quinn?” 

Quinn lapses back into silence and she watches micro-emotions move through his face. 

Carrie wonders if he is going to say anything more on the topic. Ever since she figured out the anomaly of his presence, she has been wondering why he didn’t go through with killing Brody. Some sort of personal honour code, she figures. Brody had fulfilled his mission so Quinn backed off on his. And then he must have felt like the biggest pile of shit ever after the Langley bombing. That was the part she hadn’t really thought about til just then. How he would have blamed all those deaths on himself the way she had. The way she still does.

They drive in silence for over fifteen minutes and Carrie mock congratulates herself for killing another conversation. She is trying to take her mind off Quinn to focus on Javadi but she is worked up from the tautness in the air. Count on her to kill their already tense relationship with a thank you. 

By the time they get off at exit one, Carrie can’t wait to escape the car but before they get to the cafe Quinn pulls off and kills the engine. 

“What the fuck Quinn,” she says sharply. 

Quinn ignores her and waits until she is about to leave the vehicle before speaking. 

“I couldn’t hurt you like that Carrie,” he finally says just as she is about to erupt. 

Her first reaction is to hit him, the tension pushing through her mental restraints. Of all the things to say, he pins it on her. But before she can take a swing he grabs her arms in anticipation and Carrie is pissed, wondering when he got to know her tendencies so well. 

“Do you regret that decision?” she growls, trying to pull her arms free. 

“No,” he answers with a certainty Carrie is surprised at. 

The fight goes out of her and she frowns at him. 

“Why not? Two hundred and nineteen people died. And dead men can’t plant bombs,” she says. 

Quinn looks at her intently but his expression doesn’t change. 

“It was my decision and I did it for the right reason,” he says conclusively. “Whatever happened afterwards, I had no control over it." 

Quinn turns the engine back on as Carrie wonders whether he really believes that or it is just what he tells himself so that he can sleep at night. She is still trying to think of a response when they pull up to the cafe. 

She opens the car door but Quinn grabs her wrist to stop her before she gets out. 

“Put it out of your mind, Carrie,” he says. “Focus on your meet with Javadi.” 

Carrie nods, accepting the wisdom of his advice. She needs to be sharp and on point dealing with someone like Javadi. 

“Thanks, Quinn,” she says as she gets out. “I mean it.” 

\-------------------  
0307   
\-------------------

Carrie is standing, watching Javadi board the plane when her resolve crumbles. This may be her only chance at proving Brody innocent. She runs towards him, disregarding all her reservations about him, just needing to know. 

Javadi doesn’t give her a name but says Bennett is in contact with the bomber. She believes him because he has nothing to gain from lying about this. Except maybe a chance at fucking her over. But that’s a chance she’s willing to take.

Carrie watches the plane take off before she gets back in the car. She turns towards home but doesn’t want to be alone with what Javadi just told her. That leaves few choices, most of which were nameless bars with sympathetic bartenders. But she doesn’t want that either. Not tonight. And then she realizes where she needs to go. 

Quinn exits the house looking serious as always. He strides up to her confidently but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. 

“How did it go?” she asks. 

“They’re standing down,” he replies. 

“So it went well,” she concludes.

Quinn looks less sure of her statement. He looks around in consternation before answering. 

“What do they say? Confession is good for the soul?” he replies philosophically. 

“Only you didn’t do it,” she responds, looking at him in confusion. 

“I know. But it made me feel better,” Quinn says, still looking thoughtful. “Wrong crime, right guy, I guess.” 

Carrie is wondering where this guy came from. CIA assassin with a soft heart? This was the stuff of bad spy novels. But she had to admit it did make him more interesting.

He is still talking, telling her how done he is with the CIA, how he doesn’t believe it anymore, that nothing justifies the damage they do.

And she knows that in some ways he is right. There is no way to justify the damage done. Even what they have done to her, and that is minor compared to the big stuff. But seeing Quinn, of all people, suffer a crisis of conscience when she needs him the most makes Carrie panic. She’d like to sit down with him and argue about the need for people like them and exonerate him of all his crimes but first she had to find the bomber. And she needs his help. 

“Well you can’t quit yet,” she says, “Javadi’s out over the Atlantic heading home and he told me something before he left. About the Langley bomber.” “You mean Brody,” Quinn replies and she realizes he hadn’t believed her the other day in the car. He probably still thought she was so love-blind she just couldn’t see the truth. 

“No, that’s just it, it’s not him. And I can prove it now but... I need your help,” Carrie responds, biting her lip just a bit. It’s not often she asks for help and she’s still not sure about Quinn. 

At first it seems her instincts are right as Quinn hedges and avoids her eyes. Carrie feels bad momentarily for pressing him in the middle of his ethical crisis but she has bigger concerns at the moment. 

“Quinn?” she asks, fairly sure he will cave. Above all Quinn is a gentleman, one who knows his duty. Not to mention there’s something in the way he has been looking at her lately.

And just that easily he steadies his gaze and replies with what she needs to hear. “Sure, Carrie. Whatever you need,” he says, a bit sadly. 

Quinn gets in his car as she celebrates her little victory. If he agreed to help he would never back out afterwards, she knows that much about him. Carrie wonders about his sudden moral crisis and thinks maybe she needs to have a heart-to-heart with the sad assassin. But first she needs to find the bomber and clear Brody’s name. 

\-------------------  
0308  
\-------------------

Franklin hangs up after talking to the bomber and Carrie can see him pull out a gun.

“Shit, he’s got a weapon,” she reports.

“What?” Adal responds dumbly.

“Now he’s silencing it,” she adds. “Jesus, are you seeing this? He’s got a gun.” 

They need to move now, before Franklin can take out the bomber but she doesn’t hear any orders from the command truck. Instead, they ask Quinn to confirm, as if she can’t be trusted to recognize a weapon, but he is at the wrong angle to see it from his sniper spot. 

“He’s not exfiltrating the bomber, he’s taking him out,” she says rapidly, weighing her options as she reports to the idiots in the command truck. 

“You don’t know that, Carrie” Scott replies condescendingly.

“Why else would he have a silencer?” she retorts. 

Finally Quinn chimes in. “She’s right Scott, I make the weapon,” he says from his rooftop position. 

“I’m telling you, Franklin’s going to kill that guy,” she continues, anxious for the order to prevent the assassination about to happen.

Adal makes some inane comment about Bennett having told Franklin to get the guy out of the country, like Bennett and Franklin are honourable little boy scouts that can be believed. For all they know getting someone out of the country is their code for removing a problem.

“Maybe Bennett changed his mind,” she responds, not bothering with the million other possibilities that end up with the bomber being dead. 

“Either way, our priority is to keep Franklin in play,” Adal commands.

“So we just let him kill the bomber?” Carrie asks, her nerves starting crowd her brain. This was not the plan. Saul promised her the bomber. But Saul isn’t there, which is a problem and a question in itself.

“If necessary, yes,” Adal responds, like she knows he will. 

Carrie tries to reason with him one more time, before she loses her capacity for calm. “That wasn’t the deal, the bomber’s the only way to prove that Brody’s innocent.” 

She knows that’s the problem. That her priority does not match up with the goals of command. But Saul made her a deal and she is not going to let the deal fall through. No matter what Adal decides. 

“And stopping Franklin now would blow your cover,” Adal replies predictably. “And Javadi’s back in Tehran. You get that right? Until Franklin is clear I want all teams to stand down.” Of course she gets it. Who does he think he’s dealing with? Some newbie case agent that hadn’t just destroyed her own life to put Javadi in play? But that part can be dealt with later. After they get the bomber out. 

Obviously no one else feels the same as both Alpha and Bravo teams stand down at Adal’s command. Which leaves things up to her. As always. 

Carrie exits the van and starts making her way to the motel, coming up with a plan as she walks. 

She hears Quinn asking her what the fuck she is doing and Adal yelling at her to go back to the van but she lets their words pass through without penetrating her mind. 

“Saul promised me this guy alive,” she retorts.

“Saul’s not calling the shots here,” Adal responds.

“He promised me, goddammit. Get him on the phone,” she demands, knowing it is already too late for that.

Adal confirms this. “There’s no time. Turn around,” he orders. “Carrie, turn around now or we will stop you. 

She doesn’t let his threats deflect her, even when he tells her it is her last warning. She hears Quinn telling her to listen to the man but that doesn’t faze her either. 

It’s not until the command truck authorizes the shot that she knows it’s over. But even then she refuses to give in. 

She hears Quinn in her ear. “Carrie, this is Quinn, break away,” he says, sounding anxious.

“Sorry, I can’t,” she replies, knowing what this means for Quinn. She knows he will take the shot, he is a soldier, one who obeys. She also knows that having to shoot her will weigh heavily on him, especially in his recent frame of mind.

“You’re fucking us, Carrie. Months of work. Your work,” Quinn tries.

“I don’t care,” she answers, waiting in anticipation. By this time she knows she is either going to confront Franklin or she is going to get shot. Either way she will not break off - it will be up to them to make the decision. 

“Carrie, I will take the shot,” Quinn says and she wonders what he is waiting for. His window of opportunity is closing as she gets closer to the motel.  
“Window’s closing, for Christ sake,” she hears Adal say, mimicking her own thoughts. 

She can almost feel Quinn’s distress, wonders if she’s literally dodged the bullet when the shot hits her in the arm and she drops with a shout. 

The pain hits her immediately and Carrie can feel the blood pouring out of her arm as she lays on the concrete trying not to scream in hurt and frustration. She imagines what must be happening in the bomber’s room and barely holds back a wave of profanity.

It seems like forever before she hears Quinn again.

“He’s in. Franklin is inside. Pick her up for god’s sake,” he says, sounding panicked and fuzzy through her veil of pain. 

She is still conscious when the command truck pulls up and someone drags her inside. She can hear Adal muttering curses and Quinn’s hurried footsteps.

“What was the delay?” Adal asks.

“I stopped her didn’t I,” Quinn responds tersely.

“Go with her, I’ll watch Franklin,” Adal commands, sounding disgusted.

And then Quinn’s there beside her, wrapping her arm tightly with a bandage, saying something about significant bleeding and a possible clipped artery. But all she can feel is the pain in her arm, white hot and unabating. 

“Hold on, you’re going to be alright,” he says with only a touch of anxiety in his voice.

Carrie screams with pain, “Goddammit. Fuck!” she hollers.

She can’t let the pain distract her from her thoughts though. She has to fight through. 

“Quinn, is the bomber dead?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, a bit sadly.

“Fuck!” she yells again, panic setting in. “Something’s going on.”

“Yeah, you got shot,” he replies inanely.

“Yeah, no shit you shot me,” Carrie spits out. She is about to swear at the pain again but can’t lose her focus. “No I mean something is going on, none of this, none of this makes sense. 

“Just breathe okay, deep breaths, come on,” Quinn says. She knows he’s trying his best to keep her calm, that he has his own stake in her current health status but she is far beyond caring about herself.

Carrie remembers through the haze of pain that she is still in the command truck and Quinn is the only one she trusts in there. 

“Come here,’ she gasps. “Come closer.” 

Quinn leans in and she manages to ask him the real question at hand before the pain takes her wits away.

“Where the fuck is Saul?” 

Quinn gives her a look of understanding, like he realizes she has been asking a legitimate question the whole time. 

“I don’t know, Carrie,” he replies. “But I’ll try to find out for you if you calm down.” 

The fight goes out of her then and the pain takes over, pulsing through her body in searing waves. Tears of frustrated agony slip out and she convulses suddenly, her body taut in a spasm. 

“Carrie. Carrie!,” she hears Quinn call, as if from quite a distance. “Carrie! Breathe, calm down. We’ll be at the hospital in less than five minutes and they’ll get you something for the pain. You’re going to be okay, just hold on.” 

She doesn’t want to believe him, thinks it’s just as possible they let her bleed out so they don’t have to deal with her anymore. If Adal was there that’s probably what would happen. 

But she feels Quinn’s hand on her chest, hears his encouragement to breathe and he sounds like he’s freaking out worse than she is. When he uncharacteristically grips her good hand with his, Carrie can feel his concern through his nervous, clammy skin and, even through the pain, she knows he won’t let anything happen to her. So she lets him hold her hand until they reach the hospital, trying all the while to remember that he’s on her side. 

 

\-------------------  
0309   
\-------------------

She’s finally managed to convince them to let her leave her heavily guarded room to get some exercise, even if it is just walking the halls. Carrie lasts a lap and a half of her floor before she sits on a bench by the window to contemplate her future. 

She is thinking of the last time she was out of the Agency, the time she took the pills. She is wondering if she can stand it again or if she is done for real when Saul walks through the doors and stands across from her. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, leaning against the wall. 

“As if you actually care,” she responds spitefully. “You know, I’ve had time to think here. And I keep coming back to the fact that this bullet in my shoulder would never have happened without your okay.”

“You were about to compromise the mission,” Saul responds, without emotion. 

“I was about to clear Brody,” she argues. “You said you were behind that.”

“Clear Brody?” he replies. “What does that even mean?” 

Even though she knows him, knows he will do whatever is necessary to fulfill the mission, the admittance that he lied to her still hurts. Saul was long the only one she trusted at the Agency and now she has no one on her side. 

“So you lied to me,” she accuses. 

Saul replies as she knows he will. “I don’t think you want to go there. Who lied to whom? Brody slipping out of the country while you were unconscious for fourteen hours? You think I believed that for a second?” 

Carrie shakes her head, for once not knowing what to say. Obviously he hadn’t believed her but he had been so relieved to see her alive at that time that it bought her some time. Clearly the time she purchased was now up. 

Saul looks disappointed at her silent admittance but doesn’t continue along that line. 

“You know I was in Caracas, you left me a message,” he says instead. “Don’t you want to know how he is?” 

She does and she doesn’t. After months of wondering, she thinks it’s maybe easier not to know. But of course she has to ask.

“How is he?” she says.

“He’s not well,” Saul replies, finally coming to sit next to her. 

“What did you do to him?” she asks accusatorially. 

Saul sighs. “You know the assumptions behind that question are so misguided it frightens me. I found him in a bad way. Believe me, it wasn’t something I wanted.”

Carrie thinks about that for a second, tries to read Saul’s words. She is still pissed at him for lying to her, for sacrificing her only chance to clear Brody, for using Brody against her. And she is worried about Brody - their Venezuelan ‘friends’ are not always the most compassionate of captors. 

She knows Saul is only here to ask more of her and considers standing up and leaving, refusing to talk any further. But in the end she knows he will win. Because he is Saul and she is Carrie and she has to see this through to the end. More importantly, she has to see Brody. 

“Where is he?” she asks.

Saul says he’s in Virginia, being prepped by a special ops team. And that’s when he drops the veil, tells her he has a play that involves Brody. That he needs her to convince him that it’s in everyone’s interest.

Carrie pauses, steadying herself for whatever is coming. Thoughts race through her mind, trying to sort out what Saul might have in mind. 

“And you need me why?” she asks, resisting for the moment. “I assume he’s already turned you down.” 

“We didn’t get that far. Like I said, he’s not well,” Saul responds. 

Carrie pauses, wondering if Saul is playing the ailing Brody card just to get to her. He knows her too well, knows he can use her heart against her and the worst part is she lets herself fall for it. Just thinking about Brody makes her chest clench and the question of what is wrong with him pushes her towards anxiety. 

“So what is it? What’s your big idea?” she asks sharply, trying to push her emotions back. 

Saul explains the plan and Carrie has to admit it’s audacious. And ridiculous. Putting Brody in play to take out Akbari, the highly guarded head of Iran’s revolutionary guard so they can put Javadi in Akbari’s place. It’s absurd and she counters with all the obvious questions. But Saul raises good points about Brody’s ability to get into tight places and the benefits of having an Agency asset at the highest level of power in Iran.

Carrie argues some more just for the sake of arguing but she knows it is all for naught. Saul answers each question with a pre-thought out reply and she is left without options.

“That’s the play, Carrie. Tell me it’s not worth your time,” Saul finishes. 

She has forgotten what a good salesman he can be; he has the advantage of knowing her soft spots. And most frustratingly, Saul is right. If they can make this play it could be enough to change the facts on the ground, as he says. Enough to start a process towards peace, instead of endless retaliatory violence. Oddly, Carrie thinks of Quinn at this moment, thinks that this is what he has been talking about. Ironically it will take one more kill to possibly stop the cycle. But in the long run there exists the possibility of peace. And the possibility of redemption.   
Carrie looks at Saul, her angry frown and distrustful eyes still present when she nods in agreement. She is pissed at caving to his needs but he is offering her a chance. At least he will get her out of the hospital, away from the two guards. At least they still need her, she is still in the game. And Brody is still in the game too. 

\-------------------  
0310   
\-------------------

Quinn is waiting for her when she arrives, sitting on a bench drinking coffee looking every bit an office staffer and not an assassin. 

Carrie frowns when she sees him and averts her eyes. It’s been easy to avoid him until now since she had gone straight to Brody detail once she was out of the hospital. He must have finally realized she was purposely evading him and sat where she couldn’t elude him. 

Carrie doesn’t want to talk about her shoulder, doesn’t quite know how she feels about him shooting her. Rationally, she knows he had no choice, orders are orders and he was saving her from blowing her own cover. Emotionally, she is pissed off at having a fucking hole in her arm courtesy of her so-called ally. 

“Carrie,” he calls as she stubbornly looks ahead at the elevator. “We need to talk.” 

“What about?” she snaps, finally looking at him just long enough to express her annoyance.

“How’s your shoulder?” Quinn asks congenially, as if she is a willing participant in the conversation. 

“Brand fucking new,” she replies, glancing away and hoping he will take the hint. 

Of course he doesn’t. Quinn is not one to give up on his goals. 

“I wanted to clear the air after that clusterfuck with Franklin at the motel,” he says, forging ahead. 

Carrie shakes her head. “I’m not interested,” she huffs. “I’m so tired of all the bullshit and people covering their asses I can’t even tell you.” 

“It came as a direct order, Carrie,” Quinn continues. “I didn’t want to risk letting someone else taking the shot.”

Carrie shakes her head slightly, thankful the elevator has chosen to show up so she can walk away from Quinn. Of course he follows closely, his presence grating at her skin. 

He is silent for a moment in the elevator and she hopes he has gotten her hint. Instead, he looks at her and continues.   
“While you were in surgery I took a look at your medical records,” he says.

Of all the things he was going to say, this was the last thing she would have guessed. 

“You what?” she growls, looking at him pointedly. 

Quinn at least has the grace to look contrite when he answers. “I was worried about the damage I’d done,” he explains. 

Carrie exhales angrily. This is just about the last thing she needs right now. She doesn’t have time to have a heart to heart with Quinn about his guilt. She doesn’t have the words to say she appreciates his worry, that underneath her anger she is glad he cared enough to take the shot himself. 

There are a million other things going on in her head at the moment. Brody is on the ground in Iraq and possibly heading to his death in Iran. He is their hail mary and she is his handler. If he makes it into the country she will need to be on a plane to Tehran the next day. The infinite possibilities of what may happen to him are stacked in her brain, each worrying their way into her composure. And then there’s that other thing that’s been on her mind.

“Carrie, you’re fifteen weeks pregnant,” Quinn continues bravely, as if reading her thoughts. 

He has to know the consequence of his words, of bringing this up with her. Carrie knows he is making himself do this because he thinks it’s the right thing to do. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to let him do it. 

“So?” she retorts, the challenge clear in her tone.

“So I think you should consider sitting this part of the operation out,” he says. 

“And why would I do that?” she asks, annoyance erupting out of her. 

“Because it’s impossible for you to be objective under the circumstances,” Quinn replies, finally with a little emotion in his voice. 

“The circumstances being that I’m carrying Brody’s child?” she replies. 

“Yes,” Quinn says. 

Carrie glares at him for an instant before responding.

“Well first of all, it’s not his, thank you very much. And second of all, it’s none of your damn business or anyone else’s so just stay the fuck out of my way,” she states, striding out of the elevator and away from Quinn’s irritating compassion. 

He follows her out and she can still feel his concern boring into her back but thankfully he doesn’t say anything more until they are nearly at the command centre. Then, just before they are at the door, he reaches out and grabs her wrist, making her stop momentarily. 

“I hope everything goes well today for Brody,” he says sincerely. “I know how much this means to you, Carrie.” 

Carrie turns for an instant to look at him and briefly remembers that she has come to like him, in spite of her initial impressions. 

She nods to acknowledge his words and lets him open the door for her as they enter the command room to find out Brody’s fate. 

\-------------------  
0311   
\-------------------

Carrie gets off the phone with Saul with a high sense of foreboding and immediate heartburn. They go back a long ways, him and her. She knows when he’s not telling her something. 

She thinks for a moment, gathers her mettle. She will get him out of this, she will make good on the promise he made for her.

Carrie gets on the phone, calls Masud and makes her way to the mosque. She sees Brody walking in the courtyard, waiting for her call and her heartbeat catches for a moment. 

“Yes?” he says, picking up right away.

“It’s me. I’m across the courtyard,” she replies. 

He looks at her intently and she feels the air between them become charged. Carrie wonders how he is, what he is thinking. It has been more difficult than she thought, watching him denounce America all over the Iranian airwaves. But regardless, she will not abandon him to that asshole Lockhart and his new attack dog, Adal. 

“Brody, I have a car. I need to get you out of Tehran,” she says hurriedly. 

“I told them already, I don’t want to leave,” he replies. 

“I know, and it made them nervous,” she says, wishing he would just listen to her, read into her tone of voice. 

Instead he just asks, “Nervous? What’s that mean?” 

“I’m not sure. They wouldn’t tell me but I think they’re...” she tries again. Carrie doesn’t want to totally spook him but he has to be on the lookout. “They’re cutting their losses to protect Javadi.” 

Finally Brody seems to get it. “Cutting their losses?” he asks, his voice rising. 

“Well... I said I’m not sure,” she answers, because she isn’t. 

“Meaning me?” he continues.

“Please, just come with me, just get in the car,” she says, feeling the pressure coming down. 

But Brody is in no mood to agree and he just keeps arguing with her as she feels their already slim time window dwindling with his every word. He’s not listening to what she says, refuses to see hope in any of her suggestions, despite her increasing desperation. He tells her he won’t live the fugitive life again, won’t do that to her. 

She had forgotten how stubborn he could be. It served him well in certain circumstances but now it was only going to lead to his immediate death. And then everything she had done, all the sacrifices she had made would be for naught. 

Carrie tries one more time, “Brody, please,” she pleads, looking for anything else she can say when suddenly she sees movement from behind him.

“Oh shit, it’s happening,” she says.

“What?” Brody asks.   
“Behind you from the mosque, there’s two men. One in a dark and khaki pants, the other in a leather jacket,” she answers, starting to move. “Just stay on the phone and I will talk you through.”

She sees him start moving, making for the exit. “Brody?” she questions, when he doesn’t respond.

“Just get out of here,” he replies, tossing the phone and making for the street. 

Carrie sees him go, the Mossad agents in close pursuit. By the time she gets to the street they are gone and she is left to wonder if Brody is still alive. What else is new? she thinks. At least she gave him the chance though, Carrie tells herself through her increasing worry. 

She is still gathering herself for her next move when her phone rings. She sees that it is Saul and she readies herself for his wrath. 

\-------------------  
0312  
\-------------------

Carrie is thinking a million thoughts a minute, trying to come up with the single one that will make the difference. She wants it to be a mistake, an easily correctable error in communication that can be quickly resolved. Brody did what was asked of him and he was promised safe passage home. No matter what Saul had done to her, no matter his anger with her actions, she knows he would not renege on his word, would not sacrifice an operative so easily. 

It’s not until she is talking to Javadi that Carrie knows it’s no mistake.

Javadi tells her that she should understand that no one is just one thing and she ignores the accuracy of that statement. Instead she asks where Brody is and tells Javadi she needs to see him. 

Javadi’s answer strikes her through her heart. Brody has already been tried by a military tribunal and sentenced to hang as an enemy of the state. Carrie is so stunned by his statement she can’t do anything but argue in vain. 

“Well you’re insane if you think that’s going to happen. You have to stop it,” she insists. 

Javadi actually sounds sincere when he tells her he is sorry, that there is nothing he can do, that Brody is scheduled to hang in the early hours of the next day just before the call to morning prayer.

“Well you find a fucking way,’ she demands. 

“Or what?” Javadi asks, emotion finally rising in him. “What will you do Carrie? Burn it all down? Everything you worked for? And I don’t mean what the CIA has worked for. I mean you.” Carrie looks at him in surprise. There is something in Javadi’s tone that indicates this is personal to him somehow. 

“The plan is a success. You and Brody pulled it off,” he says with something akin to pride. 

“Not if he dies,” she answers, unable to see past her despair. 

“More so if he dies,” Javadi replies, almost sympathetically. 

For once Carrie has nothing to say so Javadi continues. 

“I asked myself over and over, from the moment I knew what you’d gone through. The hardship and self-abnegation to lure me in. Why? Why would anyone do that to themselves? Why would you?” he asks rhetorically. “And I think I know now. It was always about him. That’s what you care about. Maybe the only thing.”

Carrie looks away, doesn’t answer. Javadi is too close to the truth, too close to her and she doesn’t trust herself to speak as he continues to explicate her mind, her thoughts. He has clearly been thinking a lot about her and about Brody, enough to have come to the correct conclusions. 

“Who Brody is, that’s for Allah to know. But what he did, there can be no debate,” he continues with admiration in his voice. “It was astonishing and undeniable. And what you wanted. Which was for everyone to see in him what you see. That has happened. Everyone sees him through your eyes now. Saul, Lockhart, the President of the United States. Even me.”

Carrie shakes her head, willing her tears back. It is too much to hear Javadi tell her the truth, tell her what she already should know. That this is exactly what she wanted, everything except the death sentence. She wanted all of this. But she also wanted a second chance with him, to be with him without any of the spy stuff. Just him and her, no complications. That was the whole point of all this. And for that moment in the safe house, when she had just let it all out, when he finally responded like the Brody she remembered, Carrie had let herself believe it could happen. 

“Take me to him,” she pleads, not knowing what else to say. 

Javadi says he can’t, that Brody is at a kind of peace in his cell, that she should let him be. That Brody is at peace with his sentence is not terribly surprising. Carrie had heard through the grapevine what happened when they dropped him in the water. But she still needed to see him. 

“At least let me talk to him. A phone call. Two minutes. That’s all I’m asking for,” she tries, desperation pouring out of her. “Just two minutes.” 

Javadi gives her a steadied look that makes her feel exposed even though he is their asset. It had been unnerving to hear him tell her about her own motivations. But Carrie has a way of getting what she needs and Javadi relents, with a sideways dip of his head. It’s not much but at least she has Javadi’s respect, maybe even his approval. And there is still hope, a tiny bit of time. She has pulled things off in more desperate circumstances. 

####

Carrie starts out exploding with all of her fear, “I want you to know I’m calling Saul as soon as I hang up with you, he’s going to fix this clusterfuck, he’s going to bring in every fucking...” 

“Carrie,” Brody interrupts calmly. “Carrie, it’s over.” 

“No,” she argues.   
“Yeah,” he replies. “Not even the almighty Saul can stop it now.” 

“No, you don’t know that!” she tries again, frustration and desperation starting to resound in her. On some level she knows he is right but she refuses to believe. 

“You’re wasting your time. Holding out false hope isn’t helping anyone,” Brody says. “I want it to be over.” “Don’t say that,” she pleads. They were so close, she has been barely holding on for over four months now and now he wants to give up? After all he went through. After all she went through. It can’t be over, Carrie thinks.

“I’m okay,” he says, sounding at peace. “I really am.” 

Carrie doesn’t know how he can be okay when she is so far from okay. She doesn’t know what to say, wants to scream, rail at him for not fighting, for giving up. She wants to cry, plead with him like a hysterical schoolgirl.

But Brody sounds so calm as he asks her to not be there for his execution, to not put herself through it. It’s impossible to fathom that this is the last conversation they will ever have. 

“I have to be there. I will be there,” she says, refusing him his last request. 

Carrie hears a rattling noise and Brody tells her he has to say goodbye while she is still barely understanding that this is real. That this is it. 

“Brody? Brody?” she says in a panic, desperate tears slipping through. “Can you just stay here? Just for... just for a few more seconds.” 

He stays on the line and she listens to him breathe, trying to fight the rising tide of despair. When she hears the dial tone and realizes he’s gone, Carrie lets out a sob, still unable to believe what is happening. 

####

True to her word, despite Brody’s wishes, she calls Saul.

“Hello?” he answers. 

“Saul,” she gasps.

“I know,” Saul replies sadly. “I just heard.” 

She asks him if there’s anything he can do and he sounds sincere when he says he wishes there was. But even with the distance Carrie can hear the resignedness in his voice. “I don’t even work here anymore,” he explains. “Plus the president’s weighed in.”

Carrie is struck silent for a moment. If the president had made the decision then what else was left? She grasps at straws, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch but she knows what he will say. 

“You know it’s way too late for any of that,” Saul responds predictably. 

And she does know. She just doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Oh god,” she says when she realizes there is nothing else. 

“I’m so sorry,” Saul says sadly. “I’m so sorry.” 

It’s not until that moment that Carrie gives in, that she loses all hope. Brody is going to die and there’s nothing she can do about it. 

“Oh my god,” she repeats, wiping the tears away. 

####

Carrie goes to watch him die, a heavy shield over her heart. Her obsession, her life’s work, the love of her life. As she follows the crowd she remembers, from that moment right back to their first meeting. And this is how it will end, she thinks. Really it was quite fitting but she refuses to see it that way. What the fuck was the point of being a CIA agent if she can’t even save him? She slips through the throngs of people to the fence and presses herself up against it. Brody is marched out and she can see the fear and determination in his body language. He doesn’t struggle as they put the noose over his head and even then it doesn’t seem real to her. 

The crane starts to pull him up and she still just watches silently, frozen in the reality of the situation. It’s not until he’s almost still, suspended high in the air that Carrie reacts and climbs to the top of the fence. She screams his name over and over, all of her anguish coming out in her desperate cries. 

Then the guard knocks her off the fence and by the time she gets back up Brody has stopped moving. Carrie stays for a moment, making herself look, willing herself to believe what her eyes see. Brody was dead. She had let it happen. 

When she finally walks away Carrie just wanders for miles around the city in the early dawn light. no longer sure where she is going. 

\-------------------  
Epilogue   
\-------------------

Carrie leaves the meeting with Lockhart with her mind full of possibilities. Which seems inconceivable since she has spent the past four months thinking only of regrets and impossibilities. 

Quinn is waiting for her as she knew he would be. He has taken to keeping tabs on her, ever since he picked her up after her flight home from Tehran. As evidence of his intentions, Carrie sees him finish his phone call abruptly as she approaches.

“Can I have one of those?” she asks, looking jealously at his cigarette.

“No,” Quinn replies predictably. 

“Oh, just give me one. I won’t light it,” she answers with a huff.

Quinn gives her one from his pack and she paces with the cigarette, taking fake drags, waiting for him to ask her what’s up. 

“Something ailing you?” he finally says, taking the bait. 

“Lockhart,” she replies. 

“What did he do? Except fuck over Saul?” Quinn asks. 

“He just gave me Istanbul. Station chief,” she says, almost unwilling to say the words aloud. 

“Holy crap,” Quinn exclaims uncharacteristically. 

“I know,” she agrees. She has being given the ripest plum in the CIA by a man who she vehemently hates. 

“And that’s bad?” Quinn asks, confusion evident in his voice. 

“No... This is bad,” she replies, pointing at her belly. 

“Well, it’s a little late for second thoughts,” Quinn points out irritatingly. He knows what she’s been through, how hard it has been for her to decide. 

“Yeah, no shit,” she says. 

“So what’s bad about it?” he asks as she knows he will. Quinn has obviously wanted her to keep the baby the whole time even though he has done his best to hide his opinion. 

“I just didn’t think it through,” she admits, as if anyone is surprised about that anymore. “I wanted it because of Brody - to have a part of him.” 

It is still a bit strange to talk to Quinn like this. Carrie feels vulnerable, open to his judgement. But he hasn’t hurt her yet and she needs someone she can talk to. 

“I think they call that love,” Quinn replies, as if he has little understanding of the mysterious ‘they’ that can comprehend love. 

Carrie ignores his statement, continues with her rambling thoughts. 

“It took getting this far, the fucking end game to realize it’s... it’s impossible,” she says, the panic welling up. She wants this, wants to be station chief, knows she will be great at it. Carrie is less and less sure about the baby though. Maybe she is just not cut out to be a mother. 

“Why?” Quinn asks, making her go over her reasons for the millionth time. 

“Quinn, I can’t be a mother,” she says. They have talked about this before and she keeps coming back to the same things. 

“Because?” he asks, like he always does. 

“Because of me. Because of my job. Because of... my problems,” she answers, wishing that for once he will let her off easy. She can’t do this, this is not what she was meant to do. 

But instead Quinn holds fast to his line. “Everyone has problems,” he counters. 

Carrie looks at him desperately. “I’ll be a great station chief. I’ll be fearless, obsessed, ruthless if I have to be. All the same reasons I.. I can’t,” she says, just wanting him to agree for once. 

Instead Quinn just keeps giving her the same serious look, the one that he uses when he is trying to hide his concern for her. 

“That kid is a gift,” he replies quietly, looking down at his feet.

“You have one right?” she asks, suddenly interested in his opinion. Maybe Quinn really does know something she doesn’t. Why else would he care so much about her having this kid?

“I fucked it up,” Quinn answers quickly, looking at her with a somber expression. 

“And it would be really sad to see you do the same thing,” he adds, his voice rough with emotion. 

Quinn pats her on the shoulder as he walks by and she can feel him trying to squeeze reassurance into her. Carrie isn’t surprised by how much emotion is coming from him but is a little alarmed to find that his emotions might be swaying her. Since when did he care so much about her life? she wonders. More importantly, since when has she allowed him to care about her life?

The baby kicks just then as if to reinforce Quinn’s opinion and Carrie frowns in frustration. She wishes Quinn would just listen to her, agree with her but she can’t remember that ever happening before. Most times she can’t even remember why she cares what he thinks but then she recalls that he obviously stuck around just to look after her. Not that she would have ever asked him to but he took it upon himself to be around for her when she got back from Iran. And she had really needed someone then, someone that knew the whole story, someone she didn’t have to pretend with. 

Carrie supposes that gives him some rights but he’s got a long way to go in convincing her about the baby. She wonders what happens if she keeps the kid, if Quinn will disappear once he knows she’s made the ‘right’ choice. She thinks it’s possible he would come with her to Istanbul if she asked, that he might even show up if she doesn’t ask. Carrie smiles briefly at the thought and stubs out her unlit cigarette, wondering when she had become capable of smiling again. 

\-------------  
fin.


End file.
